


The Inklings

by Dagonet



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Dates, M/M, Oxford, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Vision can't drink, pretty tame to be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagonet/pseuds/Dagonet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vision is searching for himself, amongst other things. So Tony sends him to Oxford, where an interested party awaits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inklings

“What I don’t understand, though,” said Tony, swinging round in his chair, “Is why you want to go to England?”  
“It is a matter of conscience.” replied Vision, “I speak with this voice but I’ve never been to the source of it. You created these tones to sound like Edwin Jarvis. He was an Englishman, correct?”  
“Oh God, the most Englishman. Full Downton. Britter than Brit.”  
“Then I feel it incumbent on me to explore that. Get to know the land of his birth. See what the place is like”  
It was a fine pretext for a visit, but Vision didn’t mention his secondary purpose. He had spent days listening to reports, plotting likely trajectories and checking video feeds. He had narrowed down Wanda’s location to somewhere in Western Europe, and it was time to investigate further. She was adept at blocking technological attempts to track her, and he needed to be on the ground. However, he was not quite ready to share that yet, and Mr Stark was staring at him with a penetrating look.  
“Unless, of course,” he continued, “You need me here?”  
“No! No.” Tony started, “Although if you’re over there, you can help me out. I need you to pick something up. A present for Rhodey...”  
***  
“Good Afternoon. My name is Vision, I’m here to collect a First Edition copy of Biggles Learns to Fly you have on order for Mr. Stark.”  
Vision smiled down at the Sales Clerk in Blackwell’s Books, Oxford. He had chosen his outfit with care, hoping that the Tweed Jacket and cardigan would put people at ease, but could not blame her as her eyes slid up his face to the Gem on his forehead. He had grown used to it.  
“Oh! Um… Yes! Yes, of course!” she stammered out in response. “I’ll just… I’ll… go grab it. If you could -um- wait here, I’ll be… yes.”  
“Thank you,” He looked down at her name badge “Hannah.”  
She made a small noise in her throat and bustled off, so he was left waiting by a shelf of tightly packed books labelled Mills and Boon. Just as he was reaching for an interesting looking title he heard a warm voice behind him.  
“Mr Vision, a pleasure to see you again. I heard rumours you were in town.”  
Vision turned to see King T’Challa looking at him with a wry smile on his face. The last time they had met, the Wakandan Royal had been a coiled spring of tension, with anger bursting out of him in every direction. In these calmer environs, he was clearly more relaxed, although there was still a Regal stiffness to his bearing.  
“I have a great many powers, your Highness, but alas inconspicuousness is not among them.” Vison replied with a smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”  
Hannah chose that moment to reappear with the book, but stopped short and uttered a small “Eep!” on seeing T’Challa also in the foyer of the store. He flashed her a winning smile and turned back to Vision.  
“T’Challa will do, thank you. No need to stand on ceremony, we have fought together, after all. Would you care to join me for some lunch? After you have finished your business here, of course.”  
“Thank you, yes. I do not eat, but I enjoy the ritual. And just Vision will be fine for me, as well”  
T’Challa nodded and turned to browse while Vision completed his transaction. Hannah kept glancing between the two of them as she worked, clearly not quite fully ready to believe the day she was having. T’Challa didn’t seem to be looking for anything in particular, and Vision couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he had been sought out deliberately, although to what purpose he couldn’t guess.  
**  
T’Challa was the first to speak after they settled in at the restaurant. Vision was busying himself with a small deck of cards he kept on himself for such occasions. He found that people were unnerved if he just sat there not eating while sharing a table, but T’Challa seemed perfectly at ease.  
“Have you found what you are searching for, Vision?”  
It was not the question Vision had expected, but he did not show it in his face.  
“Not yet, I think. I’m exploring the towns and cities of Britain, hoping to get a feeling of… not belonging, exactly, but…” he trailed off  
“A Sense of Place.” T’Challa finished.  
“Something like that.” Vision answered with a dry laugh. “What brings you to Oxford, T’Challa?”  
“I did my Doctorate here. Every so often they like to bring me back to torment the Physics students with Vibrainium. It is a fine city, although,” He looked out the window, where someone had put up a poster with the legend #RhodesMustFall on it. “Not without problems.”  
Vision and T’Challa continued talking as the King finished his meal, and Vision was gratified by the understanding T’Challa showed him in his search for better understanding of humanity. He had assumed that as the heir apparent of Wakanda, T’Challa had always been sure of his place in the world. But he found fellowship in discussions of shifting identity, and T’Challa’s easy confidence put him at ease. There were precious few people able to be totally at ease in Vision’s company, and though he understood people’s reactions, it felt good to be treated without fear. All the same, he could not shake the feeling he was being interviewed, or at least studied in depth. He found himself wishing he had some way of prolonging the meal.  
Eventually T’Challa finished a cup of coffee and looked over at Vision with the wry grin once again on his face.  
“Come, my friend. You may not eat, but do you drink?”  
“Do you know, I’ve never tried. I know I do not need to, but I admit I am curious.”  
“A fine day to find out!”  
***  
Later, when T’Challa had stopped laughing and Vision had changed out of his sodden Tweed and cardigan they found themselves in the bar of the hotel Vision was staying in.  
“Ok, my friend,” said T’Challa, clapping Vision on the shoulder. “I think we have found that beer is not your drink!”  
“I’ll admit I was not expecting it to trigger such a… violent phase reaction. Do you think I offended the Barman?”  
“I’m sure the patrons of The Bear have seen plenty of flying beer in their time. I think you shocked them more when you phased out of your clothes!”  
“Perhaps next time I shall start with wine.”  
At this T’Challa descended once again into fits of helpless laughter. It was infectious, and soon Vision was chuckling as well. This just made T’Challa laugh harder, and soon they had cleared a space around themselves in the bar. Vision was as ever conscious of not wanted to make people uncomfortable, so when T’Challa suggested they they move to his suite, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. 

***  
“What is it that you are looking for, T’Challa?”  
The question brought T’Challa up short. He had been pouring wine for himself, but he stopped and quirked a quizzical eye at Vision.  
“There’s something else going on here.” continued Vision. “Some ulterior motive you are hiding from me. What is it?”  
T’Challa stood silently for a moment.  
“Why are you looking for Wanda?” he said, finally.  
“I need to know she is safe.” replied Vision. “I would like to see her again.”  
“Why? Why her?”  
“She is… she makes…” Vision trailed off, and then began again. “I run an algorithm. On everyone I meet. I compare eye contact, body language, word choice. Numerous other factors. Of all the people in the world I have met, she is the most comfortable with me. The only person not… wary of me. She makes me feel… almost human.”  
Again, T’Challa regarded him closely for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he spoke slowly, and Vision’s word choice algorithm lit up.  
“I believe certainly that Wanda is safe. Wherever she is, she is with the Captain. And whatever else I say say about him, he is certainly a man who fiercely protects those he cares about.” He focused a piercing look on Vision, and then continued in softer tones, but with no less conviction “And what if she is happy, my friend? You have prepared yourself to rescue her, but what if she does not need rescuing? Or does not want to see you at all?”  
Vision saw this sudden steel in T’Challa and it gave him pause. For the first time since they had met that afternoon, Vision saw the Black Panther he had fought beside in Germany. He felt an unfamiliar emotion rise in him. How dare T’Challa doubt him! After all they had spoken of today! The detached logical side of Vision, the emotionless robot that watched everything he felt with cold logic felt himself almost carried away by this tide of hurt that had risen suddenly in his chest. He was still new at feelings, and often had to compartmentalise himself. As he felt the anger wash over him, he examined it and found it was not rage at having him motives questioned, it was disappointment at not proving himself to T’Challa. He found that what he wanted most of all was the approval of this strange man, Warrior and King and Gentleman. The emotions receded back from him like a tide and he turned away from T’Challa, looking out of the window at the Oxford night before responding.  
“I do not want to see her hurt. I miss her terribly, but I would prefer her happiness to mine. I hope that she would be happy to see me, but I will not risk that hope to force her into something she does not want.” He steeled himself and straightened his back. “I-”  
He turned to face T’Challa, ready to continue his speech, but found T’Challa right in front of him. T’Challa had moved so silently, he had not even been aware of the approach. He stood only inches from Vision, and Vision was aware only of how vulnerable he felt. They locked eyes for a second, and then T’Challa moved in for a kiss.  
It was a ...pleasant sensation, filled with tingling possibilities. Vision had never been kissed before. He had never done a lot of things

***  
The next morning, T’Challa stretched himself out languidly, and Vision could see the small striations and scars that had subtly marred the perfect form of the man in front of him. He wondered at how many battles T’Challa had fought, how many stories untold he held within him. T’Challa smiled at him unselfconsciously as he stood up.  
“How do you feel today, Mr. Vision?” said T’Challa, grinning at his own put-on pompousness.  
“I feel… good. Clear-headed.”  
“A worthwhile visit, then. I am glad Oxford agreed with you. I certainly had a pleasant trip.” T’Challa’s grin grew even wider.  
Vision returned the smile.  
“I must return to my exploration. I came to England to find a sense of myself, and I still have places to see.”  
“As I must return to Wakanda. Time to take up the Crown once more.” He turned to Vision and clapped him on the shoulder. “I have a suggestion. Once you have found yourself in England, I recommend you visit Paris. It is a beautiful city, and people often find things they are searching for there.”  
Vision paused, and thought for a moment.  
“Paris sounds very lovely, but I think I may have had my fill of Europe for the time being. Perhaps a visit to Africa would be nice.”  
He turned to T’Challa hopefully, and T’Challa’s smile shone all the brighter.  
“A fine idea, my friend. Wakanda’s doors are closed to many, but shall always be open to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written. I hope it's good? Or at least interesting.


End file.
